Davey felt his heart beat hard in his chest as he heard his parents' words from the other side of the wall.
It was one AM and Davey should have been asleep, but Les had woke up groggily asking for a cup of water, and as the older brother he had no choice but to oblige with a groan. He'd hesitated however as he heard voices coming from the kitchen across the hall, prompting him to flatten himself against the wall to keep from being noticed.

"We can't afford it anymore, Esther..." Mr.Jacobs sighed, "The house is too big for our wallets being this small."

"But we're already down to two bedrooms, darling, how much smaller can we get." Mrs.Jacobs leaned against the dining room table that her husband sat at with a frown.

Mr.Jacobs shook his head, "The cost, not the size...I'm afraid New York expenses just- aren't what they used to be.."

Davey felt his heart drop at what his father was implying, making him grip the wall behind him tighter.

"What are you saying?" Mrs.Jacobs fretted, voicing her son's thoughts.

"We...well, the country side is practically dirt cheap to afford living...the boys could take their working talents and harvest crops there-"

"We don't know the first thing about crop harvesting, Mayer." Mrs.Jacobs furrowed her brow at her husband, moving to sit in a chair across from him, folding her hands on the table.

"And Davey didn't know anything about selling newspapers either, but that boy said he's a natural born- ah what is it? News....z?"

"Newsie, dear." Mrs.Jacobs corrected politely.

Mr.Jacobs nodded, "Exactly. I'm sure they'll do fine in the country, and it'll give my arm time to heal anyhow.."

'That boy...' Davey felt his heart tighten, 'Jack...' ...and, moving out to the country? What a gimmick, right when the other boy had finally decided to stay, Davey would be leaving.

'If you're fadda' had had a union, he'd still have his job-' Wasn't Davey's job enough?
Clearly not, if they couldn't afford rent...but it wasn't like there was a job that paid more-

"Sarah and I could work a double-shift-" Mrs.Jacobs began.

"I'm not making my family work harder for me than they already are- it just isn't fair." Mr.Jacobs rubbed his temple, "We've got a week until the next rent payment is due...it'll be the last one we pay."

Davey felt his hands go to his face. He couldn't leave New York. Not now. Not after everything was finally going his way- They'd won the strike, he had friends, he had Jack!
Jack...
Davey felt his stomach twist with frustration and longing, hating how the other boy made him feel.
He couldn't just stand idly by and watch this happen.
He had to do something-
But first, he had to go get Les some water.

***

"And I-I really don't intend to be rude- I just thought if you had any extra work you needed, I'd be willing to take it." Davey shrugged his shoulders sheepishly as he looked at Medda.

"Honey, I would love to give you work, but it's already being done- it wouldn't be fair to take hours away from others..." Medda sighed with a frown as she looked at the pleading boy before her, sulking against an old set backstage.

"It's alright, I understand, I-"

"Medda!" A shrill voice came from the wings, causing the woman to turn around with a cocked eyebrow.

"Julia just tripped and twisted her ankle, I think she might have stapled a tendon." The blonde girl in a feathered dress fretted to Medda.

"Oh dear, and you girls go on tonight.." Medda felt her heart drop, "Does she have an understudy?"

The blonde shook her head, "No, she was just there to add a bit of kick to it in the back- y-you said it would be so easy to find her an understudy if needed that we didn't need to assign one." The girl shrugged her shoulders forward guiltily, "I'm so sorry, I-"

"Don't you be apologizing, it's not your fault." Medda put an arm around the girl, "Is Julia alright?"

"They're takin' her to the hospital right now, I thought I should tell you." She nodded solemnly.

"Well, you can't have the Bowery Trio be a Bowery Duo now can we?"

"I, well yes, but how are we going to find someone to-?"

"I just might have an idea." Medda turned to grin at Davey who looked in confusion before muttering a quiet, "Oh no.."

***

Looking at himself in the mirror of the boys' dressing room, empty from not being used for quite some time, he wasn't sure how he felt.
Dread was one emotion- fear was another- but there was a sort of...appreciation, for how he felt in a dress and tights. It had been hell waxing his arms and legs for this, they still stung, but it gave him an almost charming look. His dress was a lovely lavender color with red and white accents. He had to admit, it felt nice to twirl and have the dress twirl with him.
He had makeup on that hid his face well enough- and a matching fan that also hid the majority of his features.

Medda had been right, the movements were easy to pick up- just some leg kicks that Davey found surprisingly easy...and some sauntering that he'd found embarrassingly difficult.

Regardless, he was being paid far more for than than he already had gotten from spending the day selling papers with Jack before leaving early to 'help with dinner'

A knock came from the door, "Five minutes!" Medda called.

"Th-Thank you five!" Davey called before hurriedly looking over his face to make sure everything looked alright. Medda had done the make up and it looked entirely stunning. It had been difficult figuring out where to put Les while this whole ordeal was going on, but they settled for letting him doodle on some blank canvases back stage for Jack to paint later.

Davey shook his shook and took in a deep breath before nodding, "Seize the day." He whispered.

***

Once he was on stage, Davey felt like a million eyes were on him. His fan was currently in front of his face from where he stood up stage. His hair had been curled at the ends and honestly- you would only think he was a guy if you knew it was him.
Honestly- Davey might not have been far off when he said all eyes were on him- because they really were.

His movements took place primarily from sitting on top of a crate in back, kicking his legs up and earning some whistling from the guys in the audience, making him inwardly groan. Not that he didn't want the attention of guys- just, a particular flirtatious cowboy in particular.

Davey was surprised he was able to kick his leg over his head for the finally, feeling as though it might dislocate, but apparently years of running to school, tripping, and doing the same as a Newsie, left his limbs strong and flexible.
He wasn't complaining.

The boy felt...pride...swell up in his chest as he received a booming amount of applause. He fluttered his fan in front of his face as he curtsied before heading back stage and quickly to the boy's dressing room.

This couldn't be that bad, right?

***

He must have been right- because after three nights of the same act, Davey was eating up the applause by the end of it, growing more confident in his movements and adding an extra sway in his hips. Something about his face being hidden...gave him the courage and strife to be out there and do something that he surprisingly enjoyed. He didn't enjoy the cat-calling, or men trying to find him after the show and never succeeding- after all, they weren't looking for Davey, they were looking for Lily. Davey hadn't picked the name but he liked it well enough- he liked Davey better, and Medda had expressed how openly fine she had been with him using Davey, she wouldn't stop him but she would warn him of how cruel people could be.
Davey took her word of advice and laid low- for as long as he could.
Which was only a matter of until Friday.

It caught him off guard, when he was walking back stage and into the dressing rooms. The look of abject horror on his face when he saw Les simply doodling on a paper on the floor made David almost have a heart attack right then and there.

Les was just as surprised, gaping at Davey in confusion as the boy quickly slipped into the dressing room and slammed the door shut, storming over to his brother with balled up fists at his sides, "What are you doing in here?" Davey was livid but tried to hide it.

"They was painting back stage so- um- I got moved into here- why are you dressed like that?" Les sat up with a cocked head.

Under his foundation, Davey blushed profoundly, wiping a hand over his face and smearing his make-up in the process, "Why is it your business..?" he murmured tiredly, not meaning to be rude to his brother, but not sure he wanted to explain.

"Well, I just wasn't sure if you were havin' a midlife crisis or something and- did you steal that from the girl's dressing room?" Les gasped before grinning, "Davey!"

"I did not!" Davey snapped as he took a damp cloth to his face, rubbing at the makeup with kept-in anger at the situation.

"Why are you all dressed up then?" Les pressed, sitting on the stool beside Davey that faced a mirror with light-bulbs around it, half of them burned out.

"I was performing if you have to know." Davey mumbled.

It took a few seconds, and you could see thoughts clicking into place as Les came to a conclusion, "Are you performing as a performer? Like the girls? Like with the he girls?"

"With the girls, yes." Davey sighed as he finished getting his makeup off.

"Why? I-" Les paused before gasping, "You're doing this to be around the girls, aren't you!" He leapt up onto the stool.

Davey furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to object before shaking his head, "Sure."

"Oh man, wait until Sarah hears-"

Davey slapped a gentle hand over Les's mouth with a stern glare, "Nobody hears, got it?"

Les pushed Davey's hand out of the way, "Why not?"

"Because- this isn't- something that I'd normally do-" Davey sighed, getting up to go behind the changing curtains and changing back into normal clothes.

"But you are doing it." Les pointed out, spinning in his chair.

"Still- just- lets drop it, okay? This stays between me and you." Davey finished putting his regular clothes back on and stepped back out to the other side of the curtain with a sigh, "Ready?"

Les groaned, "Fiiiine."

Davey gave an appreciative nod to his brother before they exited, leaving Davey to pray that the other would stay true to his word.